


Time in a Tree (Sean/Finn)

by chaotickiara



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Artist Sean, Best Friends, Chef Finn, College, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotickiara/pseuds/chaotickiara
Summary: After dealing with a rough break up over a year ago, Sean throws himself into his art and makes a name for himself in the city's small art scene and through all that Finn had always stuck by his side. They're a thick as thieves so when Sean can't seem to find any inspiration to start his final piece for an upcoming art show, Finn is there to pull him out of the rut with a classic McNamara style tour of the city's finest (and grungiest) spots.





	Time in a Tree (Sean/Finn)

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry I haven't been posting much at all! Ever. I was just really unhappy with how I wrote and no inspiration came at all so I just took a break from writing and never thought to check back but now I'm back at it again! Been obsessed with the Life is Stange 2 game and thought to make a Sean x Finn fic though admittedly Finn can be a headass in the game lmao
> 
> Anyway hope y'all enjoy!

_Drip, drip, drip._

The apartment felt small with the two of us walking between the living room and the kitchen, pacing against the hardwood floors, pausing to cock a listening ear as the kitchen sink drips rhythmically against the unusual quiet afternoon. My eyes drift to the window and above the concrete pillars that held up the train tracks, it seemed as if the trains were delayed today. My thoughts scrambled and broke in unfinished pieces as I attempt to bring a topic up, anything to break the unsettling silence between us.

“Shouldn’t you get that faucet checked out? It’s been leaking ever since you got this place.” A tanned slender hand slowly reaches to take the unlit cigarette from me. Your clean manicured fingers so different from the nicotine stained condition of mine, and I hated the way they trembled when you got close.

But still you kept talking, louder over the noise of elevated trains, “I’ll get some guy to come over sometime this week, maybe get these fucking shifty lights switched out too…”

 _Pause._ You're looking at me now and I felt small under your gaze, like a new lab sample underneath a microscope. The train has passed, an uncomfortable silence following its tracks. Someone coughs in the hallway outside and I flinch at the noise, deafening in the room’s silence broken apart only by the hypnotizing drip of the broken faucet. Vaguely, I hear you ask me if I was alright. You tell me I don’t look well, like I haven’t been eating quite right, like I haven't slept since high school. You laugh, albeit awkwardly, at the exaggeration. When I don’t answer, something tells me you started to wonder if it was true. Worry fills your eyes and I try to lie, to reassure you, 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m a fucking trooper.”

There was nothing I could do but smile, the corners of my lips not quite reaching up, giving me away. Sighing, I stare at the polished cufflinks of your suit, wondering how far away the two of us were. Different points on each end of the spectrum yet you always travelled the extra mile to meet me halfway, sometimes more. I didn’t deserve any of your effort. Who am I to take so much of your time and would it have been selfish of me to want more?

A hand cups the side of my face, hot despite the freezing temperature of the apartment and I lean into its touch. Words begin to spill over your lips but my mind blanks at the sight of your worried face. The questions you’ve been dying to ask fill up the space around us, I respond only in short answers and sighs. There was nothing I wanted more than to smoothen the crease between your brows with a kiss. But it’s no longer my place, that ended years ago. You’re here as a friend now.

Your voice reverberates in the silence, reminding me of whiskey, a rough slow burn that warms my stomach and I close my eyes, praying that this lasts for more than a moment.  


But it doesn’t.

Sean’s eyes opened to the early sun’s rays and he shuts them tight once again, groaning upon realizing that he was back into gray reality and turning over to his side in frustration. It was as if invisible hands brushed through the fragile picture, the moment drifts away from his mind in colored smoke, now disturbed and warped. The face that was once so clear in the dream had broken apart into hard to grasp wisps, fading backwards into the recesses of Sean’s mind as his vision clears, revealing the familiar rough ceiling of his room. He stares hard at the water damaged corner of the wall, bent on recalling the faint dream except he knew the dream wasn’t entirely wrought out of his own imagination.

It was a memory from a year ago when his high school boyfriend had still kept in touch with him even after their break up, it was something Sean hadn’t quite let himself forget about even though it brought on sad reminders of the past, it was one of Sean’s favorite memories after all. 

Though it’s already been a year since they’d separated. There really was no use on reminiscing over past lovers, there were far more important things to focus on than Sean dredging up old reminders, like creating a final piece for his art show next month. The deadline came closer and closer with every passing day he procrastinated picking up his brushes and spray cans and each phone call from his agent spelt impending doom. But most importantly, he needed to focus on getting breakfast right now. Like immediately.

The familiar notes of a Buzzcocks song drifts suddenly into Sean’s room from behind his closed door, a drawling voice singing along aloud yet muffled pulls him to kick away the blankets with a defeated sigh and make his way towards the noise.

“ _Ever fallen in love with someone, ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with…_ ” Soft brown dreads bopped along to the catchy tune of the guitar, lean muscled limbs poked out of an XL graffiti-inspired t-shirt, nearly swallowing its wearer underneath the thin fabric. The pan sizzled with something that smelled suspiciously like french toast and bacon and it was only then Sean realized he was hungrier than a wolf. 

Thank god for Finn and his ridiculous out-of-character morning schedule. Out of the two of them, Sean seemed more like a heavy sleeping mess than the other did. The younger man slips behind the kitchen counter, making a beeline for the rumbling coffee-pot and purposefully bumping into his roommate on the way. The other man released an audible _oof_ as the pan slides out of the stove, he turns around and aims a threatening spatula at him, “Careful there, laddie, behave yourself or ya ain’t gettin’ any breakfast from the five Michelin star chef McNamara.”

“Chef McNamara sings way too loud for 8 in the morning.” Sean shoots back, suppressing a yawn as he pours himself a black coffee and makes his infamous diabetes-inducing Cafe Diaz cup for Finn, just as he liked it. The other only snorts in response to that and goes back to singing, quieter this time, flipping the toasts expertly and sliding them onto separate plates. 

They’d been roommates for more than three years now, friends for even longer than that. Finn had stuck with Sean through the rougher parts of his life while Sean was the only one that could be there for Finn when he’d gone to rehab four years ago when his sister Cassidy wasn’t yet in the picture. Finn always acted like Sean’s younger brother Daniel so it always felt natural to be an annoying big brother to him every chance he got and Finn never really complained much which was something Sean wished Daniel did less of. 

“Cafe Diaz for the kind and generous sir.” He offers the steaming cup to Finn with a slight dramatic bow as he snatches the plates out of his roommate’s hand, leading them both to the breakfast counter. Sean couldn’t help the slight tug of a smile that threatened to spill over his lips as he watched Finn take off his ' _What’s Cookin’, Good Lookin_?' apron off and strides confidently towards him, looking ridiculous in his oversized shirt and ratty sweats.

“ _Gracias_ , uhh…” Finn pauses after taking his seat, squinting at Sean inquisitively before lighting up and exclaiming loudly with a gentle slap on Sean’s back, “ _mi guapo amigo_. I’m getting better with the good ol’ _Español_ , see?”

Sean only grunts noncommittally as he wolfs down his french toast and bacon but the other man didn’t seem to mind and forges on without a care.

“Now, what’s on big Seanie’s excitin’ to-do list for today? Other than showin’ off how unfairly ripped you are to your dear ol’ blue-balled roommate,” Finn drawls and dramatizes a sweeping flourish with his hand at Sean’s shirtless state while simultaneously drowning his french toast and bacon with pancake syrup. That looked both appetizing and nasty. Sean could only make a face when he thought about how sweet that must taste, it was no problem for Finn since the man was built with a sweet tooth that could rival several children combined. The younger man only rolled his eyes and brushed off the casual flirting, taking more bites of his food.

“There’s not much to do, man, I have that art show coming up in a few weeks and I’m still not sure what my final piece is gonna be. Maybe I should just fucking recycle some old ideas, slap on my signature and call it a day. Nothing’s coming to me, dude, literally nothing.” He shrugs, swiping a drippingly sweet bacon off of Finn’s full plate and sits back. Inspiration really came in small doses these past few months but Sean really only had the monotony of his life to blame for that. He didn’t go out much anymore or kept in contact with his old art school friends, not even Lyla which he did feel really guilty about. He made a mental note to catch up with her this week and buy her a couple of drinks, pray that makes up for his radio silence.

Finn makes an attempt to steal back his bacon till Sean takes a large bite out of it, his forehead crumples into a frown and glowers at the younger boy though Sean could see a glint in Finn’s eyes that he wasn’t at all mad. The three triangles underneath his right eye tighten as Finn’s brows furrow further, processing what Sean said, “Sweetie, now is not the time to be so zen about this. This is your art show, for fuck’s sake! You say you got no inspiration, aye?”

Sean shrugged again, lifting his own coffee cup to his lips and sipping absent-mindedly. He wondered where would be the best place in the apartment to sit down and stare at absolutely nothing till a half-cooked idea came to him. Maybe another cityscape wouldn’t be too bad, his agent would probably have a fit though. They’re expecting something big and new coming from the new kid on the snobby elite art scene.

“Put some half-way decent clothes on, babe, we’re going hunting for your fuckin’ muse. But wait, before you do, I wanna enjoy this hot view just a liiiittle bit more…” He didn’t expect it was coming but a tattooed hand flies out and Finn stalls, eyeing him up and down playfully, angling Sean’s chin from side to side with a chuckle, ”...Okay, I’m done ogling you. Now go you sexy beast, begone from this kitchen. Your loving wife will clean up after you.”

Spontaneity was Finn’s forte after all but that didn’t stop Sean from making a show of loud reluctant groaning as he trudged towards his room again, gulping down his less than hot coffee. The bitterness of the coffee did very little to wash down the sweetness of the syrup however, and Sean found that he didn’t mind the combination of flavors much at all. That weird blending taste seemed to summarize the start of his day pretty well though he’s unsure where his unpredictable _‘live life by the skin of your teeth’_ friend would take him in search of a muse. Excited is one way to describe how he felt, somewhat scared would be a better fitting one.


End file.
